


Afternoon Delight

by andithil



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship, Sibling Incest, blink and you miss it fluff, sometimes... boys who are shorter....... are tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andithil/pseuds/andithil
Summary: A wedding in the family provides the perfect opportunity for two brothers to reconnect.





	Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inouken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inouken/gifts).



> Someday I'll finish a birthday present fic on time and not 5+ months later lmao. In the meantime, happy belated birthday, inouken! Thank you for your patience, as always, and for being a wonderful beta reader. <3

Michael started and glanced over as Gob plopped into the seat next to him.

"You made it." There was a hint of surprise in Michael's tone, but Gob didn't seem to notice as he surveyed the modest sea of chairs steadily filling with acquaintances and strangers around them.

Finally, Gob focused on Michael, his face lighting up. "Of course I made it. Been a while, Mikey."

Michael chuckled. "A little too long, don't you think?" 

"Miss me much?" Gob's grin stretched impossibly wider. 

With a shrug, Michael looked ahead toward the vine-tangled archway at the front of the congregation. An unusually cool breeze rustling through the nearby brush. It wouldn't hurt to admit he did, but he figured his silent smile was answer enough. It was worth it to feel Gob's gaze burning holes into the side of his head.

Not a minute later, the burning stopped as Gob cried out in greeting. "Heyyy, there he is! Look at you, George Michael!"

Michael twisted to see his son stepping past their row, dressed to the nines and looking more like a grown man than he had any right to. 

"Hi, Uncle Gob. Hey, dad." George Michael paused to adjust his suit. 

Michael beamed at him. "Wow. You sure do clean up nice, huh? Just like your old man." He snuck a wink back at Gob whose cheeks gathered a pink tinge. "Went all out for your cousin's wedding, I see."

"Yeah, sure did..."

If George Michael seemed a little distracted, Michael chalked it up to nerves. He'd been surprised to learn Maeby had asked her cousin to officiate in the first place. But family came first, after all, and it warmed Michael to know that the insanity of the Bluth family seemed to be fading with the younger generation. 

The sun lingered low in the sky as the rest of the guests settled into the remaining seats. Lindsay and Tobias sat in the row ahead, noisily lamenting the loss of their little girl to adulthood and marriage. The other bride's family chattered happily across the aisle. Soft violin music began to play from an unseen source, and George Michael stepped up in preparation to address the crowd. 

"Seems kinda cruel, doesn't it?" Gob's voice rumbled in Michael’s ear. 

"Cruel?"

"Yeah, man. Don't you remember all those years ago, they were, like, super into each other?”

It took Michael a second to register exactly who it was Gob was talking about. “Jesus, Gob.” He wrinkled his nose. “No, that was nothing, that was… two hormonal teenagers with crushes, that’s all.”

Gob was silent for a moment. “That all we were?” 

Before Michael could answer, the tune changed key and everyone twisted around in their seats. A handful of attractive young men led the wedding procession. It was virtually impossible for Michael not to think back on when he and his brother were a similar age. Younger, even, with a lot more than an adolescent crush. Phases like that usually didn’t last more than three decades, after all.

“Of course not,” Michael whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “That was different. They never...” Suddenly feeling hot, he tugged at his tie. “God, tell me they never--”

Michael was cut off again as everyone collectively stood. He chanced a peek at Gob who waggled his eyebrows in turn. The blood drained from his face. But as Maeby sauntered into view, radiant, confident, and holding hands with her partner, Daphne, Michael managed to flash them a proud, lopsided grin.

Focusing on the celebration of the day was far preferable to all... _that_.

“Hello, everyone,” George Michael began. “Today, we are gathered here...”

The ceremony was simple and sweet. Michael wondered if Maeby insisted on it being so or if it was just their style. Either way, it was refreshing. He half expected Gob to interrupt halfway through with some outlandish announcement, maybe a botched magic trick, but for once all he did was sit quietly with a smile on his face.

"--and with the power vested in me, by the state of California, I now pronounce you wife and--" George Michael slid his gaze slyly between Maeby and Daphne. “--other, much cooler wife.”

Laughter sprinkled through the crowd. At George Michael’s direction, the couple surged together for a kiss. Michael was relieved to see that his son looked at ease, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The newlyweds broke apart to scattered applause. Michael gave a loud whistle as his niece and niece-in-law sailed by arm in arm.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here?"

Gob's low murmur sent goosebumps shivering down Michael's arms. How was he still able to do that? Michael swallowed, then glanced around to make certain no one was paying them any attention. 

"Are you serious?" he whispered. "Now?" 

"Uh, yeah, now. It's a wedding, Mikey. Besides, two brides and no bridesmaids? You believe that? Who else am I supposed to do?"

Michael bristled at the mere possibility of being second choice to a no-name bridesmaid, but Gob's smirk reassured him that the taunt was intentional. He always knew which buttons to push. Michael glanced around once more as the guests prepared to make their way to the reception, then hissed, "I'm the one who does the doing, remember?"

Gob's smirk grew filthy. "Oh, I remember."

_Christ._

Lindsay and Tobias were busy flattering George Michael on a gorgeous ceremony, which made it that much easier for Michael to forget decorum and slip away through the meandering crowd. He didn’t need to check to make sure Gob was following right behind him.

The bed and breakfast reserved for family sat pretty at the end of the winding downhill path. It was cute, decently sized, a mix of modern and vintage decor meant for a variety of couples looking for a wine-country wedding. As they neared the double doors, Michael realized they were an entire excuse short of an alibi. He stopped and spun around at the last second, just in time for Gob to collide with him.

“Hey!” Gob cried out. Then the smirk appeared. “Hey there...”

“Gimme your suit jacket.”

“Wanna show off the goods before you get ‘em, huh?” Gob spread his arms for a better view.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Just hand it over.”

“Alright, alright. Geez.” Gob shrugged out of the beige linen and passed it off to his brother who draped it over an arm. With a little flourish, Michael opened the door and stepped aside to allow Gob through first. “M’lady.”

Gob dragged his knuckles over the front of Michael’s pants as he passed. “You wish.”

Michael sucked in a shallow breath. He really should have waited on the tease. As the door shut behind him, the young woman sitting at the cozy front desk looked up from the book she was reading.

“Hey, do you happen to have a good stain remover?” Michael asked, holding the jacket in front of himself. He glanced at Gob who grinned back salaciously. “Because of the _stain_. My brother here spilled some wine on his very expensive suit and we’d like to try and get it on. Get it out,” Michael quickly corrected himself, “before it sets in. Stain’s gotta go.” Suddenly, he felt Gob’s hand squeeze his ass and it was all he could do to keep a straight face.

The desk clerk smiled curiously between them before setting her book down. “We sure do. If you’d like, I can take that back for you so all you have to do is blow dry it,” she offered.

Michael clutched the garment tighter and smiled nervously. “Ah, no, we’ll just take it up to my room if you don’t mind. Swear we’ll bring it back.”

Blinking in surprise, she shrugged a shoulder and stood to disappear through a door. Michael spun around on his heels.

“Do you mind?” he hissed at Gob. “I’d like to make sure our little secret isn’t the scandal of our niece’s wedding day.”

“Aw, come on, Mikey! She didn’t see anything.” Gob raked his gaze over Michael’s body. “But I’d sure like to.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Michael muttered, but the low tone of Gob’s voice reminded him how much he wanted that too. “Just try to keep it to yourself until we’re upstairs, got it?” He turned back ahead.

“Sure thing, Mikey. _Not a problem._ ” 

Gob’s breath puffing over his ear made Michael tamp down a shudder just as the receptionist returned, passing over both a stain remover stick and some wipes. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable,” she said, smiling brightly.

Gob returned her smile, eyes wandering to her ample chest. "Well, actually," he leaned forward, “maybe you’d like to join us for a little--”

“We will, thank you,” Michael cut in, pinching the back of Gob’s thigh. He raised his eyebrows in challenge to Gob’s small yelp of pain. “Come on, let’s get this done so we can get back to the party.”

“Yes, sir, Michael, sir.”

_Christ._

Making their way to the second floor, Gob wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. He kept pinching Michael’s ass and the backs of his thighs, relentless, even when Michael swiped at his arm to get him to stop. Each attack wound Michael that much tighter. Only when they reached his room did Michael finally snap and wheel around to jab Gob in the chest. “What is your problem? You almost gave us away, idiot!”

“Hey, relax,” Gob said. “People do that sometimes, you know? When it’s a group thing.”

“Not with their brothers!” Michael slapped Gob’s hand away again and hissed, “You're insufferable, you know that?”

“You started it,” Gob smirked.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’re the one who started it,” Michael shot back. He stepped in close, wedging his hand roughly between Gob’s legs as he lowered his voice. “But I’m gonna be the one to finish it. How does that sound?”

It was a rhetorical question, really. Michael didn’t need a verbal response to know that Gob was fully on board, quickly growing stiff and eager in his hand. Still, that didn’t stop his brother from gaping and choking out, “Great. Fuck yeah.”

“Good.” 

With a little squeeze and smirk of his own, Michael let go. He fished out his room key, more anxious than ever to get behind that closed door. The relief of hearing it lock behind Gob was like losing ten pounds as he moved to drape the suit jacket over a chair. “You know,” Michael began, “I’m not kidding around here. You really shouldn’t pull stunts like that when we’re trying to keep a low pro--”

Suddenly Gob’s lips were smothering his, muffling a startled noise as the stain cleaners clattered to the floor. He grabbed fistfuls of Gob’s dress shirt in an effort to regain control. Or maybe just to ensure he stayed upright. Probably both.

Gob broke away a moment later with a small huff, thumbing over Michael’s cheeks. “Sorry, Mikey. I couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah,” Michael’s voice cracked. He found himself staring shamelessly at Gob’s mouth. “You really never could. Hey,” he tugged on the shirt. “Take this off, huh?” 

“You don’t want the honors?” Gob grinned wickedly.

“Just do it,” Michael said, right before surging in for another frantic kiss, his hands fumbling down to tug at Gob’s belt. “I’m not,” he panted, “gonna find any--mm--dead animals, or--” He tossed the belt toward the chair and dove back in for the fly of Gob’s pants. “--lighter fluid down here, am I?” 

Gob groaned, bracing himself on Michael’s shoulders while jutting his erection greedily into Michael’s hands. “Don’t need any, Mikey. Already got a fire started. Not, like, the itchy kind--got that taken care of, just like you told me, but--”

“The shirt, Gob.” 

Gob groaned again, this time out of frustration. “Christ, you’re bossy,” he whined. Still, his fingers went to work on the buttons, and Michael smirked, finally crouching to divest him of everything else. He made sure nothing was in a state to gain too many wrinkles, then shed his own suit down to his underclothes while Gob made himself comfortable on the bed, his dick standing at attention. “Getting kinda slow there, old man.”

Michael squinted as he crawled onto the bed and onto Gob. “I’m the old one? You’re the one about to get the senior discount at the country club.” 

Gob started to protest, but it was Michael’s turn to cut him off, slipping his tongue deep into Gob’s mouth. Never was there a more effective way to get him to focus. His arms slid behind Michael’s neck and he kissed him back noisily, feverishly, raising his hips to meet Michael’s grind, taking a mile for every inch. But Michael wasn’t about to complain. He let himself relish their closeness for a minute, savoring his brother’s need for him, moaning to cover up the feeling of damnation he’d learned to deal with years ago.

When Michael finally tore himself from the kiss, it was with a mouth wide open. A thread of saliva broke as Michael retreated to nestle between his legs. Gob looked offended at the loss.

“Michael? What are--” He gasped as Michael bent down to broadly licked up the underside of his cock. “ _Jesus_ , Mikey, f-fuck--”

With an inward smile, Michael tongued generously over the purple head, spreading their saliva and the wetness already leaking out. One hand moved to cup both balls and the base of Gob’s shaft to steady him. He glanced up to see Gob watching, his breath puffing out in smaller moans, fists clutching the bedsheets. Michael’s own cock pulsed at the sight. 

“You like that?” he asked cheekily, dragging his lips over the tip. 

“Uh huh,” Gob replied. His voice sounded strained. 

Michael already knew he would, of course. He just wanted to hear Gob say it. 

Gob continued, jutting his hips for more. “Gotta find George Michael a wife if this is what I get during weddings.”

Michael almost snorted. Pushing aside thoughts of his son, he started idly stroking Gob with his other hand and said, “Here’s the deal. We don’t have any lube, so I’m counting on you to help us out here. Think you can do that?”

Gob tried pitifully to thrust into Michael’s hand. “Anything, Mikey. _Please._ ”

A slow grin crept across Michael’s face. This is where Gob’s neediness fit best. Where it shined. Michael stroked once, twice more, then wrapped his lips around the head and suckled down, inching to where his fingers kept up a subtle massage. He never could achieve what Gob had learned in the dick swallowing department, but he tried to make up for it by providing a thorough experience nonetheless.

Thankfully, it paid off. Gob gifted him with a string of low, ragged groans, the perfect encouragement for Michael to wring out more of that sinful voice. His tongue slithered over Gob’s cock with no rhyme or reason, chasing those noises, the babbled praises and “ _Mikey_ ”s. They never failed to send shivers down his spine. Gob’s knuckles turned white at his hips to keep himself from thrusting deeper and Michael felt a wave of affection for him, rewarding him by stroking a little harder, a little faster, slicking his entire length and slurping the head so obscenely Michael had to wonder at the fact that maybe he’d learned something useful from Gob after all.

“F-Fuck!” Gob suddenly cried out. “Hohhh, Mikey, Mikey, I’m ggg--”

Gob’s jaw dropped in a broken gasp and Michael steeled his throat just in time. Waves of warm, salty come quickly filled his mouth. It took every bit of concentration and restraint Michael had to finally pull off while keeping his lips sealed tight, trapping the load behind slightly puffed cheeks. 

Even though it wasn’t the most disgusting thing, it wasn’t exactly pleasant either the longer it sat on his tongue. Michael sat up and tried not to think about it too much as he scrambled out of his boxers, uttering a soft moan when it jostled his own rock hard cock in the process. Then he hooked his arms under Gob’s knees and hoisted him further down the bed to prop them up on his own. 

“Hm?” Michael gently snapped his fingers over Gob. “Hm-mmm?”

It took a moment, but Gob’s gaze finally honed in on Michael’s fingers, then his face. “Wow,” he panted.

“Mm!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gob replied, grinning faintly. He spread his knees wider, higher. “What are you waiting for?”

Michael really didn’t know, but he sure as hell didn’t want to wait any longer. 

He dropped half of his mouthful into the cup of his palm, then funneled it under Gob’s balls where it started to dribble down the cleft of his ass. He heard Gob’s breath hitch. The rest of the load Michael brought home, slathering his cock in the frothy mix of come and spit, curling to hover over Gob while his hand stayed between them to spread the makeshift lube. Gob snaked his arms around Michael’s neck and brought their forehead together, eyes squeezed shut.

“Gob…” Michael added a little more pressure, testing, almost teasing. He found the notch and shuddered with want. “I’m going in, pal, you ready?”

Gob’s reply came rumbling out. “Would you fuck me already?”

_Jesus Christ._ That baritone was sure to be the stamp on his one way ticket to hell. With a reflexive thrust, Michael forced the head of his cock past the stiff muscle and could have sworn he saw stars. “Gob,” he gasped again, and sank another inch before stopping himself as his brother whimpered beneath him. “You okay? Hey--”

“I’m good,” Gob huffed, clutching Michael tighter. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Michael. Don’t puss out on me now,” he warned with an air of desperation. 

Michael obviously knew that Gob had slept with other men before. Whether or not he was referring to them in that moment was up in the air, but that didn't mean Michael had to enjoy the reminder of who knows who doing God knows what to _his_ brother. 

All of a sudden it became that much easier for Michael to bury himself completely. Gob dug his fingers hard into Michael’s back, muffling his cry against Michael's cheek, his breath hot. Everything was hot. Gob was a furnace and Michael wanted to bask in the heat, to make more of it. He gave Gob a few more seconds to adjust before rocking in deeper, followed by a longer thrust, their hips grinding where they met. 

“How’s that, huh?” Michael breathed, finding his way into a rhythm.

“Jus’ like that,” Gob slurred back. His jaw went slack pressed against Michael’s face and Michael twisted by degrees to have their mouths meet, open and wet and just as hot as everything else. That receptionist wouldn’t have a clue that this is what Gob needed. No one else did. He tongued past Gob’s teeth to share the taste of come that lingered and stake his claim. Sure enough, Gob went wild for it, groaning indulgently, kissing Michael like his lungs held all the oxygen in the world. 

Everything but the bubble they occupied melted away. Michael picked up the pace, just enough to get the satisfaction of Gob’s noises vibrating continuously against his lips. He felt Gob’s dick grow hard again, batting its compliments against his stomach, and he would have marvelled at his ability to do that at his age if it hadn’t been so commonplace throughout the entirety of his adulthood. Some people were just wired that way. And Gob had never been shy about being wired for Michael. 

Michael nipped roughly at Gob’s bottom lip as he broke away, mashing their foreheads together again. He could feel that warm, familiar coil start to tighten behind his balls. “Gob,” he said, his words hoarse and thick with lust. “Christ, Gob, I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

Gob’s breath shuddered between them. “Fuck… Mikey, please...”

“Please what?” Michael panted. He pounded a little harder into Gob and drew out a dry, choked sob. 

“ _Please_ ,” Gob tried again. “I-I--”

Michael caught a glimpse of Gob’s eyes, the green somehow both bright and dark, trying desperately to latch onto Michael’s. Instinctively, he spit into his hand and reached between them once more to fist Gob’s dick. Gob gasped as his eyes rolled back, unseeing. “Ahhh yeah, Mikey, oh Mikey, Mikey, Mikey _fuck_ \--” 

Michael only had to swirl his palm over the head a couple more times before Gob was coating it with a modest round two, the warm, creamy liquid accompanied by Gob’s incoherent babbling. That and his body arching, clenching tightly around him, was enough to finally send Michael crashing overboard. “Fucking christ,” he croaked and ground to a stuttered halt, moaning low as his cock pulsed heavily inside him.

As a final shudder wracked his body, Michael eased himself out of the mess he made and collapsed, half on his brother and half on his side. His chest heaved as he felt around for Gob's cheek and drew him into a string of slow, lazy kisses.

Gob returned them with little high moans. He shifted onto his side with what sounded like Herculean effort, keeping their bodies flush as a hand snuck down to where Michael’s cock was plush and still sensitive. 

“Hey,” Michael said softly, stopping him by the wrist. “Whatcha doing there, pal?”

Gob snuck in another kiss before replying sheepishly, “You only got to come once, Mikey. Lemme help you out.”

Michael couldn't help his chuckle. “It’s alright, Gob, don't worry about it. Let's just…” He brought Gob’s arm up to drape over his waist. “...stay like this for a minute, okay?”

“You sure?” Gob sounded confused. “Because I can--”

Michael quieted him with his lips. “Mhm.”

Gob hummed. 

They laid like that for several minutes, in comfort and an unusual silence, both of them reluctant to break apart. Only when Michael heard the faint buzz of a text did he sigh and start to sit up. 

“Well, you want the shower first or should I go ahead?”

Gob peered up at him with a tired smirk. “Why choose?”

Michael shook his head, a small smile playing across his face as he shuffled over to dig in his suit’s pocket. “How’s this. We share the shower, but nothing happens below the belt except some thorough scrubbing. Think you can manage that?” He glanced back at Gob who had sprawled indecently over the sheets. God, that really wasn't fair.

“Betcha I can,” Gob said. He scooted up and ignored a wince of discomfort as he continued, “What do I get if I win?”

“Never agreed to a bet,” Michael pointed out. The text was George Michael asking where he'd disappeared to. _Freshening up. Be there soon._

“Yeah, but what do I get if I win?”

“Gob, I'm not making a bet with you.” Michael bent down to put his phone away. When he straightened, Gob was staring at him, half hard. “Seriously?”

“If I win, I get to sleep in here tonight.” Gob nestled into the wall of pillows and smirked. “And I get to suck you off.”

Well. Fuck. 

“Fine,” Michael caved, “but only if you hustle it. Come on.” He turned toward the bathroom, finally tugging off his t-shirt.

Behind him, he heard Gob hiss under his breath as he scrambled to catch up. Michael grinned. Maybe, if he behaved himself through the reception, he'd let Gob do a little more than just blow him that night.


End file.
